


Cops

by MrProphet



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 22:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10706904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	1. Buddies

The harbour master put up quite a fight, but speed and brute strength were no match for the superior training afforded to the Shadow Proclamaition’s Judoon enforcers; not when the Judoon’s own reserves of speed and – especially – brute strength were so great. Sergeant Tsyba’s face was cut and bruised before the fight was done, but the harbour master was all-but unconscious as Tsyba cuffed him to his chair, his scales torn and his limbs bloodied. He roused enough to obligingly spew a tirade of choice insults into Tsyba’s translator.

“Language assimilated,” Tsyba declared. “Galyari Cluster Tongue. You are the harbour master?”

“You could not have just asked?” the harbour master hissed.

“You were required to stand down, under Convention 3 of the Shadow Proclamaition, the demand issued in Galactic Standard as required. Your attempt to initiate hostilities required the use of a Level 2 response. You will now answer questions or you will require the use of a Level 3 response.”

“What questions?” the harbour master demanded.

Tsyba spread a file full of images on the desk in front of the harbour master: artefacts; ships; crew of many different species. “Smuggling operations,” he growled. “A ring of indivuduals and ships; guilty of many crimes. Theft; import and export of artefacts the transportation of which is prohibited under Article 35.3 of the Shadow Proclamaition; sale and purchase of artefacts the trade in which is prohibited under Article 35.6 of the Shadow Proclamaition; receiving of stolen goods; sale of stolen goods; theft of stolen goods; racketeering; extortion; interference with local law enforcement; assault; assault on personnel of the Galactic Council in pursuance of their duties; murder; murder of personnel of the Galactic Council in pursuance of their duties; and sundry violations of over one hundred and forty-nine galactic traffic statutes.”

“And… the question?” the harbour master asked.

Tsyba slammed his fist down on the desk. “Do you know them? Have you dealt with them?” He seized the Galyari by the lapels and lifted him, chair and all, halfway over the desk. “Are you an associate of these persons?”

“Sergeant Tsyba.” A dark shape emerged from the shadows of the office; a tall, pale woman with white hair and red eyes.

The Judoon dropped the harbour master. “Yes, Magister?”

“Why don’t you see if you can find some refreshments,” the Shadow Magister suggested.

Tsyba stamped out of the office. The harbour master looked up in distain. “Is this the best the Shadow Proclamaition can manage? Benevolent law enforcer/malevolent law enforcer?”

“I suppose that ‘good cop/bad cop’ is a little… cliché, but you are making one significant error.” The Magister stepped forward and her eyes flashed. “Sergeant Tsyba is the good cop.”

*

The Shadow Magister left the office. Tsyba was leaning on the wall outside and handed her a cup.

“Coffee?” she asked.

He shrugged. “ Something like; near enough with nine sweetners.”

The Magister gulped at the scalding, sickly brew. “Ah! Nectar,” she purred. “Come on; the harbour master gave me a lot of information – it was actually kind of hard getting him to shut up – but among the mass there was the fact that the smugglers are bringing in a shipment of Dalek artefacts, today, at dock nine.”

Tsyba pushed himself upright. “We go then.”

“Yes we do. And bring your large blaster; apparently there’ll be at least a dozen guards.”

“A dozen?” Tsyba shook his head. “Getting too old for this.”

“We are  _not_  too old for this,” the Magister assured him as they strode away, side-by-side. “We’re just well-seasoned.”


	2. The Collar

Suden drove fast, but it was afternoon in the city and the traffic was enough to slow him considerably. Occasional glances in the mirror showed a dark shape flitting from rooftop to rooftop, running with almost impossible speed. Suden pushed the accelerator down, swerved around a slow moving Mini and drove hard for a crossroads too wide for his pursuer to leap.

The opening was there, Suden could see freedom ahead, but then a Volvo bootlegged across the junction and he ploughed straight into the back of the larger car. The airbag slammed into his face and the world spun into blackness.

The door of the Volvo was forced open by a massive hand and a huge, armoured figure squeezed out. Sergeant Tsyba went over to the unconscious driver and ran a scanner over his face.

“Non-terrestrial lifeform,” he grunted. “Identity confirmed; Cruciatus Magna Malienis Sudenvertiga, senior torturer of the League of Anguish.”

Like a great, black crow, the Shadow Magister dropped from the building behind Tsyba. “Well driven, Tsyba,” she said approvingly.

Suden jerked back into consciousness to find the Magister's red eyes boring into him. “Sudenvertiga, we have a warrant for your arrest on more charges of crimes against sentient life than any other creature without a bonded polycarbide travel device” - she touched his face and his chameleon field flickered and died, revealing alabaster skin and crimson eyes - “and of betraying your oaths as Archmagister of the Shadow Proclamation.”

“You have no jurisdiction on Earth!” Suden laughed. “You can not hold me.”

“The existing warrant will be served on the Earth's moon,” Tsyba assured him.

Suden cackled in triumph. “But you can't take me offworld without an arrest!”

The Shadow Magister held out a piece of paper. “Sergeant Tsyba and I are acting as auxiliary agents of the Metropolitan Police Force, by special arrangement.”

Tsyba spun Suden around and slammed him against the car. “You are under arrest for dangerous driving. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention now something you later rely on in court. You have a right to legal counsel, and we have the right to hold you at our own facility. On the moon.”

“What?” If it were possible, Suden's face would have grown paler.

“You should have remembered, Sudenvertiga,” the Shadow Magister reminded him. “No police force likes a dirty cop.”


End file.
